Oh, no. You are DOOMED.

[mansionstaff]

Mother Nature had one hell of a temper, and if not that, then perhaps a sadistic sense of humor. The world was Her plaything, a marionette at best, and the people who lived on it, rather unfortunate victims to Her sometimes violent moodswings. For only She could start with an overcast, grey sky, and splatter across it heavy clouds, treacherous storms, and relentless armies of snowflakes that had lost all endearment only to become companions of inconvenience and burden. Someone or something had maddened her greatly - or so would have been the assumption if one gave reason to believe in Sprites of Nature who controlled an entire world's plethora of environments.

Yet Smash Academy had only been given a taste of what was to come. And since they were such diligent and well-behaved little pets, She had reason to reward them. With more entertaining obstacles that would, no doubt, impede their precious plans that somehow took precedence to pleasing and sating her. No, they had not appreciated their darling sunshine days, clear blue skies, and painful sunburns.

"Stop playing at your human-made technological machines and bask in the glorious sun I gave to you!" she wished she could have said. But somehow winter's torment, she knew, would be a far sweeter revenge upon ungrateful children.

And that was how it had begun.

By stand alone days of simple snowfall and ambitious winds, there would be no suspicion of greater minds and hands at work. Steadily through the week, each day became harsher than the last. And like a great many number of battles in a war, there came a pinnacle for Her success. She sent the most worthy blizzard down to the surface in its invincible path and rendered for them a weekend She was certain the town and academy's citizens would remember for some time to come.

One moment was mostly peaceful, and as calm as unruly weather would allow. In some places music played. In some places, lights were dimly lit to provide a pathway. In some places, there was the happy clicking and tapping at a computer. In some places, showers and baths were being taken, savored, and enjoyed. And in other places, unsuspecting people had taken to idle chitter and chatter with other friends who were likely down the hall.

But in the next...

All went black and silent, save for the whipping wind and strangling branches of trees, as if whispering threats of what people would find in the dark.

---

[OOC Notes:
The following is a reminder of how things are going down for the next few days.

♦ This will last from January 18 ~ 20.
♦ The following are affected by the blizzard: electricity, heaters, hot water, TVs, gadgets, gizmos, the network. Congratulations, you've been officially stripped of your luxuries. (No computers for you.)
♦ The school's backup generators will work for about one hour before mysteriously failing. What's causing it to fail? Maybe some of you should go check out the generators themselves...
♦ The blizzard causing this blackout is pretty powerful. You probably don't want to go skipping through it lest you get blown away (in a bad way) and never return.
♦ Power will be restored, and the generators repaired, by Monday morning, January 21.]

Comments

[shirtphobia]

That is irrelevant. Although true enough, I suppose.

[Ah, here we are. A classroom. Just gonna. Find a corner, sit down, try not to get sliced by Ocelot's spurs.]

Death doesn't concern me. It and I are old friends.

[gunplay]

[Okay, this he can get used to. He gets comfy on Liquid's lap, bringing his knees up and maybe nicking Liquid again with a spur by accident but finally settling into a cozy position. Of course he's still freezing, but being on Liquid is better than being on a cold hard floor.]

Something exciting happen?

[shirtphobia]

Perhaps. [He drew in his breath sharply at the nick, but otherwise didn't react.]

Although I'm sure you'd find my brother's past far more interesting than mine.

[gunplay]

Then I'll ask him, too.

[A pause, as his shoulders shake with the cold.]

I n-never faced death. Not with my gun skills.

[Well, maybe he was nearly killed a few times in his reckless pursuit of Naked Snake, but never before that.]

[shirtphobia]

...is that so? Any time that a person fights, they are facing death... and taunting him. One mistake is all that it takes.

An Ocelot never misses its target.

But how often does the target miss an Ocelot?

[gunplay]

[...A mistake. That hits a little close to home. Just one time when his gun jammed while trying out a new trick had changed everything.]

No chance. I'm always the quickest draw.

[shirtphobia]

[His answer was a little drier than he meant it to be.]

What if you don't see your target? Can you still draw fast enough then?

[gunplay]

[Click. The rim of a metal gun muzzle presses under Liquid's chin.]

My other senses are pretty good.

[shirtphobia]

If you fire, you're going to lose my body heat.

[Just pointing that out now. He sounded more annoyed than anything else.]

Don't make an enemy of me, Ocelot. I'm simply pointing out that you've tempted death - and defeated it - many times already.

[gunplay]

[Oh, Ocelot has no intention of killing such an interesting man. Sometimes he only waves his gun around to make a statement. ...But he lingers like he's considering it, slowly drawing the cold metal down Liquid's throat like a lover's tongue.]

...Maybe someone like you could put me in real danger...

[shirtphobia]

...

[That feels very strange and he is not sure how to respond to that, Ocelot.]

Maybe you'd deserve it if I did.

[A slight chuckle.]

But that doesn't mean I'm going to.

[gunplay]

Ah. Called my bluff, did you?

[He puts the gun away with the audible scrape of metal sliding into leather. He's still shivering, but sounds to have more control over his teeth chattering. Something warmed him up a little bit.]

[shirtphobia]

If you wanted me dead, you'd have simply fired.

[He leant his head back against the wall, eyes closed, trying to think. Perhaps he can find a duvet or something. But letting Ocelot freeze in the meantime was a no-go. Sitting still was tedious, however.]

While if you were simply going to hurt me, you'd probably have aimed lower than my throat.